


Michael's in the Basement

by spacedoutsoap



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Captivity, Finished, I don't, Other, Whump, it's just an idea, posted this because it's one of the few fucking things i've finishefd, the original character isn't anyone, try not to take it seriously, wrote this as a vent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-06-27 23:05:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15695187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacedoutsoap/pseuds/spacedoutsoap
Summary: This is some dark shit, don't read if you're sensitive to this type of stuff.





	Michael's in the Basement

**Author's Note:**

> This is some dark shit, don't read if you're sensitive to this type of stuff.

You moved to Austin quite normally, having grown bored of the men in Louisiana. You were lucky that your job paid well and would transfer you to a job in Austin with little fuss.  
You purchased the large two story home with a large property and a cellar, decking your cellar out with all your normal gear as well as some new stuff. From nice ropes to strong chains you spared no expense when it came to the room. making sure there was a decent toilet, a bathtub and a standing shower. You had purchased a queen size bed for the room but it wouldn't fit through the door so you stuck with a simple twin.  
It didn't take long before you felt the deep seeded loneliness in your chest from having gone so long without a pet. It had over a year since your last one and it made you miserable. It could not be helped though, since it would be too hard to move with a pet in your possession and not get caught. It was hard enough to decide where to keep your journal during the move, your journal would of been a gold mine to investigators. It had the name of every pet you had ever owned and the places you had scattered their remains. You remember the first pet you brought home. He was very pretty and muscular with smokey blonde hair and green eyes. He had filled a spot in your heart that no one had ever filled before, until he became boring. You hadn't really known what to do with his body. You sent his fingers away in the garbage, threw his legs into the ocean, and buried his torso and planted a tree on it. You tried to keep his skull but you were inexperienced, and you wound up taking a sledge hammer and smashing it into oblivion.

When you saw him that night, you knew you had to have him. He was going to be your first pet in Texas.  
He was gorgeous with curly dark red hair and glasses. He filled in his t-shirt and jeans beautifully with a mixture of muscle and meat. You watched him all night, finally spiking his drink after it had become obvious to everyone that he was drinking a lot and getting hammered. It was a pain to get near him due to the fact he seemed to be at the bar with at least five other people who you assumed were his friends. But like most men, he didn't watch his drink. As soon as he started to stumble, say goodbye to his group, and head outside you followed him out.  
You grabbed his arm on a particularly extreme stumble where he almost hit the ground and tell him he looked really bad and offered to call him an uber. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but threw up on the ground in front of you. You worried he may have thrown up the pill but thankfully he suddenly became dead weight on your shoulders. You shoved him into the back seat of your car, laying him down in the recovery position hoping he wouldn't choke on his own vomit.  
It was a pain in the ass to get him down the stairs into the basement. Once he was in his room you left him on the floor covered in a blanket that would be easy to clean. His hands and feet bound and a large bottle of water beside him.

You saw him on the news the very next day, learning about what he did for a living. He was a content creator on youtube, that meant nothing to you at first so it was something you had to search up on. You wound up spending upwards of four hours watching Let's Play and Achievement Hunter videos. You learned quite a bit about the man in your basement from the videos. He had a pretty wife. He's a grumpy and loud New Jersey boy.  
There was a lot of social media posts about him, begging for information and his return. It all made you chuckle. Since the only ways they'd see him again was either if you were caught, or when they found his grave. You wondered how long before he would become boring to you. The least you would keep a pet is a year but you had high hopes for him and how long he would entertain and fill the void in your heart. You also wondered how long till the police ran him as dead or a cold case. You ran your hand over the man's glasses. You knew you shouldn't have them out, but they were so cute and it was a very enthralling feeling to have the missing man's glasses beside the missing image on your screen.

You decided to visit him that evening. Normally you waited longer before checking on your pets after getting them, but because he had thrown up the day before you wanted to be sure he hadn't already choked to death on his vomit. You clicked in the key code, turned the key, and pushed open the heavy vault door. Immediately you heard shuffling from the man as he cornered himself, trying to push himself into a standing position. Quickly you entered and shut the door behind yourself. The man, Michael, was breathing hard with sickly sweat beading down his face. The room smelled terribly of vomit.  
"You cunt!" He suddenly yelled as he charged at you, but you easily side stepped him and hooked your foot into his leg chains, tripping him. His face hit the ground with a painful thud since his hands were bound behind him and he didn't have a way to protect himself from the fall. He swore loudly and tried to get back up. You planted your foot into his back, knocking the air from his lungs and keeping him down.  
"Sorry you puked so much, you really drank a lot last night." You apologized and hoped it wasn't the meds that had made him puke. He squirmed under your foot, straining to look at you.  
"I-I'll kill you, you bitch!" He spat more expletives at you that you ignored, more worried about trying to get the bloody smell of vomit out of the room. Venting your pets spaces was always a pain and you scrunched up your face at the thought of spending time cleaning. You were glad that he had at least managed to get most of his vomit into the toilet that was in the corner. There was only a small puddle of it that you'd have to clean. You glance at and the yelling and struggling man, digging your heel hard into his back.  
"You're going to get gagged very fast if you don't shut up, and with how much you're puking that probably would not be a pleasant experience for you." You snapped at him, he swore once more before wisely choosing to keep his mouth shut. You took your foot off his back but kept your eye on him while you went over to the lock box above the small sink. You had stocked it up with various supplies, such as ropes and chains, as soon as the room had been ready. You took out the chain that attached to the wall and cuffs. You grabbed the man, who had shifted onto his knees, by his lovely curly hair. He screamed expletives as you pulled him over to the wall. He didn't notice you clipping the chain to his hand cuffs and the wall with ease, despite him kicking and screaming. You brought your hand down across his face when he wouldn't shut up. Again when he called you a bitch. And again when he called you a cunt. Finally he used his two brain cells and stopped talking, you momentarily appreciated the red hand print on his pretty baby face before turning back to the vault door. You unlocked it and pushed it slightly open, reached outside where another box sat full of cleaning supplies. You got to work cleaning the man's vomit from the hard floor and spraying frebreeze all over everything.  
You refilled his water and left him alone for well over 24 hours. You needing to return to the world and go about normal days of work. It had been months since your last Pet and you had forgotten how hard it was to make time to be with one. At least in the beginning it was important to isolate and neglect them. Make them weak emotionally and physically. So finally when you returned down stairs with half a steak, carrots, and chocolate milk your pet would always be quite good and hungry for food and affection. You set the warm food a few feet in front of the pale man who had wrapped himself in the blanket. It had been almost four days since you had last visited him.  
"Alright, I'm going to feed you now. Open wide." You speak softly and kindly. His eyes are wide and terrified and you can't help but shiver. You love the terror in the beginning, when your pets hadn't quite learned what sets you off or when you're angry. They get this look of fear that has to do with not knowing. There's a look of fear in someone's eyes when they know they are going to be hurt, or when they know they have done something specifically wrong. It was gorgeous.  
You had cut up the steak before you had come down stairs, leaving your knife out of the room. You stabbed into a chunk of the steak with your fork and leaned it towards your pet. "I made this myself!" You patiently waited for him as he stared down the piece of food in front of him, eyes flickering from it to your face before he finally caved in. He opened his mouth enough for you to put the fork inside. Feeding someone for the first time was always awkward. You didn't want to move the fork too fast, least you rush them, but you also didn't want to keep them waiting to long between bites. You pulled back when you knew he had gotten the food from the fork, grinning gently as you watched him hesitantly chew. "Good right? Bought and made it specially for you!"

Michael watched the deranged person carefully as he chewed the chunk of steak. Of course it was good, anything was good after a couple of days. His mouth watered from the smell alone. He hated that he physically trembling, he didn't want to look weak in front of the psycho. But his throat was rough from being dry and puking and also he didn't want to starve to death. He knew he needed his strength of he was going to try and escape. He sizes up the person who has kidnapped him as they got another piece of steak on the fork. He was trying to decide that if he were to attack them weather or not he'd win. He knew the door locked on both sides and he had remembered half of the code, 67????8. It was something like that. He was sure he could shove this person down next time they opened it. but he knew he needed the chain that kept him to the wall removed before he could do anything.

You leaned forwards with the second piece of steak on you fork, holding back the urge to talk to the man like he was a child or animal. He seemed like the type to dislike being talked down to and you hadn't wanted him upset, you simply wanted him to eat. You knew you should probably also get him to brush his teeth tonight, as he had vomited a few days ago and never been allowed to clean himself. He's also smelled a little ripe, you were going to have to bathe him as well least he get too smelly or sick.

After feeding him the entire meal and refilling his water bottle, you started the water for the bath. You held your hand under the water until you felt it become warm, then you plugged the drain. You turned and faced your pet, who had backed himself into a corner while you had not been looking, you had been completely oblivious and not heard the chain drag away from where he had been.  
"Come here." You tell the man as you point at the ground in front of you, his face twisted up in disgust.  
"Fuck you!" He spits, pulling himself into a ball with his knees against his chest like he was going to try and stand. You tsk, irritated at the man's resolve and stubborness. Turning for a moment, you took off your belt. It was a thick black leather one that you knew would be as painful as it was loud.  
"Come here, now." You approached the man, fire in your eyes, grabbing his arm and throwing him to the ground. You plant your foot in his lower back before he could react and making him yelp.  
"Fuck-!" Was all he had time to yell before the belt came down on his back, cracking sound echoing in the room. He let out a stream of curses and struggled under your foot. You brought the belt down over and over onto his back, revealing in every pained noise he made until he was a shaking mess on the ground in front of you with small tears in various places from the belt and blood seeping through some spots. You weren't really that irritated and internally was still very patient since you had only had your pet for a few days, barely a week! Of course he was going to be disobedient, the first month was crucial for training him who was in charge and who he had to listen to. You gave him a moment to rest and breath while you tossed your belt into the unmade bed, something you'd do eventually was buy sheets for it. You reach down, unlocking his leg cuffs.  
"You're going to get in the bath, I dont care how much your back stings. you should of thought about that before defying me." You command him.

Michael kept his face pressed against the concrete floor, a mix of fury and terror coasting through him. He hadn't expected the power that had come with the belt, and even then it really felt like this person was holding back. He tested spreading his legs slightly, they were cramped from being basically useless for such a long period of time. He felt his captors hand under his arm and suddenly he was being yanked to his feet, stumbling towards the bath.  
"It's a shame about your shirt." The psycho commented. Michael figured it had been torn from the belt, the way his back stung told him that the belt had also drawn blood. Michael wasn't ready for the sudden tear of his shirt, exposing his back and a feeling a rush of cool air on it. He shivered as he stared at the tub. This person was going to undress him and he did not want that. Not at all. He began to thrash, trying to pull away. His captor made an irritated sound and released his arm. Michael only knew then just how weak he was, because without them supporting him he crumpled, legs suddenly unable to hold him up. There was an irritated sigh, his captor leaned over him and tore his shirt until it was off of him.  
"Get up so I don't have to rip your pants as well." They suddenly barked, grabbing his arm again to pull him back up. With only an accidental whimper Michael stood up. They tugged at his pants quickly, not dillidaliang. Michael sucked in a breath as the cool rooms air hit his thighs. He lifted each leg for the person to get the pants off, taking his socks with them. He shivered again, not only from the chill and his stinging back but also because his captor had grabbed his boxers.  
"No." He said it softly, glancing at his captor pathetically with begging eyes. They glared at him.  
" I have to wash your boxers. " And with that, Michaels shame was being pulled down his legs. Michael groaned at the cold, shoving his captor away. They stumbled and landed on their ass. Michael realised his chance. Jumpped on top of his captor and slammed his head into theirs. They barked and hit their back to the hard floor. Michael didn't know what to do, his hands were still bound behind him and his boxers were around his ankles. In his moments of trying to decide what to do next, his captor had moved and suddenly Michael had a fist connect with his jaw, rattling his skull. He stumbled and his back hit the ground. Suddenly his captor was atop of him, and hands were around his throat. He thrashed and thrashed but was powerless as he fought to breath.

You clamped your hands down, taking out your anger of being hit in the head by your pet. You watched as his eyes buldged and he tried to throw you off while you held your hands on his throat. You waited until he had begun to stop thrashing to release his throat, sitting on him and watching him as he coughed and heaved for air. You gave him and yourself a minute to calm down from the struggle. You had managed to not ruin his face and it took a lot of self control to not break his arms.  
The minute was up, and you got off of him and stood, watching as he rolled into his side and curled up, coughing as he filled his lungs with oxygen. You turned off the bath water that had thankfully not over flowed during the struggle. Grabbing him again and standing him up, Help he let you manover him. getting his boxers off and getting him into the tub.  
Michael shivered as more soapy water was dumped into his head, pulling his legs to his chest in attempt to keep himself from sliding around in the tub. The person yanked on his hair and shoved him around in the bath, Michael just let them do it since he was scared of being held underwater. He did appreciate being clean, and the clothes they put on him after were soft and smelled nice.

You realized this was the first time you could really follow your pets family and friends through the process of attempting to find their lost love one, and it was thrilling. You followed every rooster teeth related thing you could find, reveling every time someone mentioned your pet.

A few days later, after getting into a better feeding schedule you decided it was time for your pet to get another bath.  
"Come here." You point to the ground in front of you and, after a moment, he crawled forwards. Extremely awkwardly since his hands are bound together in his front. You gently run your hand through his long curls when he gets to you, they were in desperate need of a good wash and brush.  
"Your hair is a mess, you'll let me wash it, won't you?" He nods quickly, pressing into your touch. He knew better than to open his mouth least he say something to piss you off. Being alone so much had finally taken it's toll on the man, you knew it by the way he pressed into your touches and no longer struggled when you led him by the arm. You hummed as you massaged the shampoo into his scalp. His eyes were shut tightly and his hands were digging into them self as he tried to stay as still as possible.

Michael was terrified of what the person would do to him, they had already beat him with a belt on multiple occasions and chocked him half to death twice, but they also took the time to feed him twice a day and sit and read on the other side of the small room he was kept in. Some days they'd never say a word and those were the bad days, far worse than the days he was beat. The silence made him tremble and weep, longing for physical contact of any kind. And now, after not fussing or fighting for what was probably a week, they had their fingers on his scalp and were washing his hair. He hates that he loves it. He'd never had a deep scalp massage before, it relaxed him in every way possible after being in that room for so long. He had to bite his lip to prevent himself from whining when ever they'd pull away, he really didn't want to loose the physical contact he was finally receiving. He hadn't realized just how relaxed he had became in their hands until they pulled away. He bit back a whine and turned his head slightly, trying to see you.  
"Why did you stop?" He carefully asks. You pick up a magazine,  
"Which sheets do you like more?" They had three cut outs of sheets, a brown set with orange squares, a plain blue one, and a plain white one. Michael looked up at them in slight confusion,  
"You're letting me pick?" They raised an eye brow,  
"Don't tell me it's to hard of a decision, pet." Michael winced at being called a pet, but while looking back at the sheets made a decision.  
"The plain white is fine." Michael mumbled and turned away again to stare at his hands in the water. He listened as you shuffled around behind him before returning to gently massaging his head. He had near fallen asleep when you stopped again, this time he didn't bother to open his eyes, so he hadn't seen you step in front of him and drop to your knees.  
You huffed at him slightly before tracing your hands up his shirt, making him jerk his eyes open and struggle.  
"Wh- what are you doing?" He stuttered and trying to squirm away. You held him in place and slowly slid close so your lips were inches from his ear.  
"I'm marking you as mine, now you either let me do it with my lips, or I do it with my belt." He had completely frozen under your hands, eyes blown wide with fear of being belted again. You smile slightly and continue with feeling up his chest, beginning to plant kisses on his neck.  
Michael's breathing picked up as they danced their hands around his chest and their lips found his most sensitive spots on his neck. He tried to bite back noises and to shut them out but he couldn't. He hadn't been touched like this in a while and his body was turning to jelly. The first bite broke him, they bit down hard right on the sensitive spot of his throat, making him gasp and raise his hips slightly. He felt his will power running out with each bite and gently touch. He completely lost composure with one of their hands drifted low enough to brush over the outside of his crotch, he full out moaned and leaned forwards into them, trying to get more touch. He could feel their grin on his throat and he growled slightly,  
"Fuck- fuck you you fucking cunt." He hissed. They bit down, hard. One hand came up to his throat and clamped onto it while their other squeezed his crotch. Michael felt slight panic mixed in with his arousal and they came back to his ear.  
"You had best shut the fuck up, you are mine now. " They dragged their finger along the outside of his bulge a few times, before completely pulling away from Michael, leaving him panting, red, and glaring up at them. They smirked at him and turned, leaving with out another word.

You had put the new sheets on the bed and let your pet get comfortable, watching carefully as he ran his hands over the soft, new sheets. You smirked and came over, gently resting your hand on his shoulder,  
"How do they look?" You ask sweetly. Michael turns to look at you, searching your face.  
"They're very soft. T-thanks. " He mumbled softly and looks back at the bed. He climbs onto the bed and tests it, before collapsing into it with a huff.  
You gently ran your hand along his spine

You had been playing with him for about ten minutes, his hands were bound behind him tightly as you teased his thigh with your mouth. Michael was full on trembling and his dick twitched beside your face, purple and dripping with need. When he could he would let out a sting of plees, desperate for your lips on his sensitive member.  
You admired the hickeys on his inner thighs and how his chest heaved. In your moment of not kissing him he regained his breath to let out another stream of begs, some thing in particular caught your attention, he promised he'd do anything if you would touch his dick. With a selfish grin you sat on his bed and dragged him onto the floor between your legs, quickly wiggling out of your pants you smiled down at him, he turned deep red and stuttered. You simply shoved his face into your crotch and enjoy his desperate attempts to satisfy you.  
After he does manage to satisfy you, you reward him. Getting him back on the bed you put his dick in your mouth, blowing him but never letting him come. You either stop him by pulling away or by squeezing the base of his dick, starving off his orgasm.

Michael strained forwards, though still on his knees, desperately trying to get close again.  
"Don't leave- please don't leave." He gasped and whimpered pathetically, straining against the rope that kept him to the wall. You hummed softly, leaning forwards to kiss his ear and run your hands down his chest and stomach. He moaned and his hips bucked forwards at your touch, desperate.  
Michael hated himself for being so weak, for so easily falling in line with the psychopaths orders. He hated himself for desperately trying to get them to hold him, desperate for long physical contact.  
You gently massaged his chest, reveling in every little noise he made and how he tried to grind forwards into nothing, bulge in his pants becoming increasingly prominent. After about half an hour your hands had become tired and you pulled them away, earning a disappointed noise from him.  
"Sorry pet, I must be going now." Michael tried to argue but you had already stood and then, left. Michael wept on the floor for hours.

You had allowed him to have free hands, instead chaining one of his legs to the wall. He could freely move about his room and you had gotten him a DS as well as two Pokemon games and various other games that would keep him busy. You had also set up the treadmill so he could properly exercise.

You finally had more than an hour to spend with your lovely little pet. Michael melted in your hands, desperate as always for your touch. You gently massaged his upper back and pressed your knee into his crotch. He moaned softly, rutting into your knee. You run your hands along his back, over the bruises you had given him with the belt. You cooed in his ear,  
"You're so horny little pet, would you like to cum?" Michael physically went weak at your words and collapsed into your arms, moaning again and desperately grinding his hips into your leg. You had teased him sexually on and off for weeks now, enjoying how frustrated he had become. And now since it was the weekend, and you had time to spare, you decided it was time to give your pet some well deserved attention. You turned to softly bite his shoulder and moved your knee in a circular motion on the outside of Michael's crotch.  
Michael wanted to tear his insides out. He didn't want this but he desperately needed it, hoping he could get them to stay with him for as long as possible. He was desperate and frustrated and couldn't help the spasms in his hips as they rolled their knee over his already half hard dick. Michael whimpered like a pathetic little bitch and begged.  
"Please stay with me today, please I'll do anything just stay with me." Michael begged into the crook of their neck. Their hands rested on his lower back, making small circles with their thumbs.  
"I will baby, I will. The next two days you're all mine." You cooed and kissed his shoulder. You grinned at his repeated moan and gently bit his shoulder. With your free hand you palmed his jeans before slowly unzipping them.  
Michael was already a mess, desperate to cum but knew he had to take his time so they would stay. He didn't want to be alone for another 12 hours. He groaned lowly when their hand pushed down his pants to rub him, God he wanted to cum right then. He pressed into the crook of their neck and turned his head to watch their hand in his pants as it gently palmed his swollen cock. His legs twitched as he tried to remain still, trying not to rut into their hand and cum. They moved their hand slowly and methodically, clearly trying to drive Michael insane. They had asked him if he had wanted to cum, they wouldn't lie about that, would they? Michael filled with panic, he couldn't wait longer for release or he'd die. He opened his mouth against their neck, and back to beg.  
"Please let me- Please!" He almost screamed it, over and over until they leaned over to kiss his cheek.  
"Of course pet. Get on the bed and take your pants off. " Michael moved faster that he ever had, pants and boxers off in seconds before he was on the freshly made bed. The covers were soft and Michael wanted them to let him cum all over them. It was agonizing for him to watch them move away from him to retrieve a small bottle of lotion. They sat in front of Michael on the bed, putting a large amount of lotion on their hand as Michael watched, twitching. His dick's tip was purple and his balls were swollen, the feeling of the lotion touching his tip made him moan loudly and lift his hips. They sat on his legs and slowly massaged his thighs, dick, and chest. It was an agonizing build up, but an amazing orgasm. Michael almost blacked out he came so hard, he came loudly as well, hurting his throat. They rubbed him through the orgasm, enjoying the control over his body and he spurted onto their arms.  
Michael stated at the ceiling as he came down, his body felt hot and his brain was fuzzy, he couldn't remember where he was. He only knew that someone was humming and gently cleaning him with a warm towel. He felt lost in the feeling of lips over his skin as the person curled up with him, he wrapped his arms around them, they were warm. They pulled a soft blanket over the both of them and Michael quickly felt himself falling asleep. Michael lied in bed and wondered if any of it had been real, maybe he had only made up his past in his head, made up his wife and friends to keep him company before they had come to him. 

 

No internet, but they brought him a computer and a steam account. They loaded the computer with good games. And when he asked if he could make videos, they couldn't resist. They let him record and edit, and after he was done you'd come down and watched the finish video.  
"I'm PetPlays, the gaming channel." What a cute little intro, he had named his channel PetPlays.

 

You stabbed the screwdriver deep into your pets chest, momentarily regretting how careless you had been, letting him make videos. You couldn't help it though, it made him so happy and by extension, made you happy.  
You knew the police were in your home now, hunting for the missing man. You watched as he struggled under you, gasping from the sudden intrusion of the tool. You sighed and kissed his cheek, before leaning back, placing your pistol to your throat, and pulling the trigger.  
Michael tried to tell them to stop when he saw them raise the gun, but all that came out was a sputter. He closed his eyes and turned his head away before being deafened by the sound of the gun shot.

You would never know, but you had just barely missed every vital organ in Michael's chest. It didn't take long for the police to get inside of your small room, where they found the wanted psychopathic serial killer with a bullet in their head, and the missing man shirtless under them with the hilt of a screw driver sticking out of his chest.  
Michael was in and out of consciousness after the surgery where they removed the tool. Lindsey and Gavin stayed with him in the hospital during the entire ordeal, overjoyed with Michael being found alive. They had no idea the extent of his abuse while being your captive for two years, or how it would affect them for the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't comment telling me this is too dark. You had been warned.


End file.
